Big Mystery
by ChristmasAngel1225
Summary: Arthur Fleck has only ever had himself and his mother. Sarah only has herself and her unborn child now. When the two of them meet, will they find what they are missing in each other? Can a broken man heal an equally battered and broken woman? Who knows. (ON INDEFINITE HIATUS)
1. Chapter 1

Arthur stared at the floor as he made his way into the apartment building he had lived in for as long as he could remember. His steps thudded heavily on the laminate flooring. Long hair blocked his vision. Then he looked up. The mailboxes shone dimly in the dull light from the lamps on the ceiling of the lobby, glinting with the promise of news whether it be good, bad or somewhere in between. This time, however, they were different. A figure stood next to his mailbox, collecting their mail.

It was a young woman, not much younger than him actually, whose middle was rounded with pregnancy, whose left eye was blackened by the paint of a bruise, whose light hair was tied into a braid, and whose neck was mottled with handprints. He reached out to open his mailbox, his eyes peering at the woman from their corners, searching her for god-knows-what. Her voice stopped him in his tracks.

"Is this yours?" He turned his attention to the envelope being extended to him. The recipient was labeled as Penny Fleck. Arthur frowned at the woman while slowly taking the letter from her grasp, a grasp constructed by spidery fingers that were as banged up as the rest of her.

"Thank you." The woman smiled at him, but it barely stretched her lips.

"You're welcome, I'm sorry it ended up in my box in the first place," She whispered before fishing out the rest of her mail and closing the container. Once the key exited the lock again she turned to face him. Arthur gasped and a pleasant shiver traveled up his bony spine.

"It's not, it's not," He cleared his throat, feeling a laugh building up, "not a problem at all." The woman smiled again, this time a little wider. The sight, combined with the rest of her, made his heart flutter in his breast like a million butterflies. Her eyes, no matter how damaged, were a warm cognac color that complimented her ash-colored brown hair. There was no makeup on her face to hide the splash of freckles cut by a small scar across her left cheekbone. Arthur noted that her jaw was bruised too. Streaks of red and purple that danced in the light.

"My name's Sarah, I just moved in," She mumbled, seemingly out of nowhere. Her eyes were narrow and darted around nervously. Arthur noticed and subtlely shifted so he was a little farther away from her. Then a bark of laughter escaped him. _'Oh no…'_ He curled in on himself as manic laughter poured from him and sent him to his knees before her. His thoughts descended into darkness as he ought to find his card. _'Where is that fucking thing?' _Fingers grew desperate and curled into claws as he searched through his pockets.

Then a hand touched his shoulder and started rubbing his back soothingly.

"Shh." Arthur whimpered as Sarah started crooning to him, her hand caressing his back and his hair gently. He looked up to see her crouching as best she could without falling over with the weight of her stomach. His card was in her other hand, he must have knocked it out of his pockets while searching for it. Slowly, his fit calmed.

"C'mon, up you come." Arthur allowed her to help him up to his feet. He stared down at her in visible shock. She took his hand and placed the card in it.

"I don't want you to lose it." Sarah's face was sad and held a knowing glow to it. "Mental illness is horrible, let alone when you lose your ability to vocalize it." His jaw unlocked slightly.

"Can, can I walk you to, to your door?" Her eyes widened slightly. Arthur panicked. "Just as a thank you, for helping me."

"Um. Sure, I guess," Sarah turned and led him over to the elevator, "You don't have to though." Her eyes focused on the pained man as he stood next to her in the elevator.

"I want to. You're kind." She didn't know what to say, instead choosing to clamp her mouth shut and look down at the floor. "Do you have a mental illness too?" Arthur winced, realizing a second too late how inappropriate that was. Sarah took it in stride.

"Yes, I think everyone does at some point," She fiddled with her fingers, "It's ridiculous to expect that everyone can be happy all the time. Or even some of the time." Sarah cracked her knuckles, the sharp click resounding in the cramped elevator. Arthur stared at her in silence, her words rattling around in his brain for the rest of the ride up to her floor.

"Finally," Sarah breathed out as they arrived on the fourth floor. Arthur blinked at the sight of his own floor, and again when Sarah approached the door to the apartment next to his. His neighbor. This poor thing was his neighbor.

"You're," She turned to look at Arthur, "my neighbor. I live right there." He pointed at his door and wiggled his keys between his fingers. Sarah made a soft humming noise and looked at the door.

"Well, good to know I have the best neighbor in the building." Arthur blushed slightly while Sarah slowly opened her door and peeked inside. She sighed in relief at the emptiness and turned back to her neighbor. "What's your name?"

"Arthur, Arthur Fleck." Her pale lips quirked up at the edges in the most minute smile he had ever seen on a person. His eyes locked on her lips and he thought of how soft they might feel against his own. He shook his head at the idea and tried to return the smile tremulously. "Good night Sarah."

The woman nodded before stepping inside her home and closing the door gently. Her eyes flicked over every inch of the modest apartment, checking for even the slightest sign of disturbance of a speck of dust. She couldn't be too careful anymore.

**BM**

Arthur walked into the apartment and set his things down, listening for the sounds of his mother. None appeared, so he sat down at the kitchen table and pulled out a cigarette along with his journal and a pen. His… therapist has given it to him as a way to record how he was feeling and cope. So far it hadn't done anything helpful yet. Then again, he hadn't had anything good to write about.

Until now. His pen scratched her name into the page, the ink flowing over every syllable, every letter. He moved on to describe her from the top of her head to the tips of her shoes, which had been worn down sneakers now that he thought about it. Words morphed into fantasies in his mind before turning back to words on the page. Filthy words. Imagining every inch of her. A tightness in his jeans forced him to stop and set his pencil down.

"Shit." His voice barely disturbed the air around him, unlike the sound of his hand slamming into the table. Fingers undid belt buckles and zippers, releasing an erection that needed more than his hand to be sated. Oh well, it would have to do for now. His calloused hand massaged his cock, stroking and tightening every so often like he imagined Sarah's body would. Arthur halted, his body shaking with a heatwave of shame that killed his desire as quickly as it arrived.

"Happy?" He tucked his cock away and stood up to go tend to his weak mother. "Did I get a letter today?"

"Yes, mother. From the landlord, I need to drop rent off tomorrow," Arthur replied, scooping his mother up to give her a bath. Her form tucked in on itself in his arms which caused an age-old resentment to rear its head in Arthur's mind. She wanted a letter from Thomas Wayne. He knew it.

"I see," She whispered as she was disrobed and deposited in the bath. Her son slowly washed her tired body of the day's dirt and grime with warm water and an old washcloth. Silence reigned the room as he continued his daily task and tried not to think about Sarah. Pregnant, beautiful, and tortured Sarah.

**BM**

Like Arthur, Sarah was cleaning her family member. Well, sort of. Her hand was massaging a towel across the surface of her swollen middle while her voice crooned lovingly at her unborn child. It was a habit of hers to sing to herself, one that had only increased in occurrence since she had discovered her pregnancy. This time she was serenading her child with We Are the Champions from Queen, a particular favorite of hers.

A few minutes later she took careful steps out of the shower and started drying herself off while picking another song to sing. She couldn't find one though and was content to simply hum tunelessly while padding to the kitchen to try and make some food. There weren't many ingredients in her house, it meant fewer things would spoil before she would get to eat them. Sarah grabbed a couple of potatoes from the back of her pantry and managed to find a small pack of chicken in her fridge. Satisfied, she turned on the stove and quickly fried them in some cheap canola oil until she was sure they had cooked through.

"Time for food. I know it's not much," She took a seat at her small table, "But Mommy is gonna buy some yummy veggies tomorrow and freeze them so we won't run out. How does that sound?" A gentle nudge at her side made her smile.

"I take it you approve?" Another nudge. Her smile grew. Nowadays her little baby was the only thing that made her smile anymore. Then again, she didn't have much else to hold onto. Her baby's father was… questionable to say the least and she was probably better off without him anyway.

Arthur's face sprung into her mind, unbidden, confusing the woman. He was nice enough, most certainly unused to kindness. That was common nowadays. Everyone around them in this city wanted to beat them down until they couldn't stand, couldn't breathe, couldn't live. An arrow of pity lanced Sarah through the heart. She could sympathize with a man like him. A man whose life had not been kind in the slightest. Her baby nudged her again.

"Did you need something, Your Highness?" She cooed, looking down at her bump. No response. Sarah chuckled and quickly finished eating. Her bowl was placed in the sink where it would be washed the following morning so she could eat some cereal before going to work. The TV switched on to a popular talk show, the Murray Franklin show Sarah thought. She never actually paid attention to his content, but instead took comfort in the background noise it provided. Her apartment was far too quiet without it. The kind of quiet that makes you want to crawl out of your skin and hide in your parents' arms until you know you're safe again.

Her arms would do that for her baby one day. Sarah smiled at the thought, shaking herself out of her reverie while pulling a blanket over her aching body. Her body gradually warmed up until she was plenty cozy on the couch. Well, cozy enough to drift off to a somewhat restful sleep.

**BM**

Arthur had returned to his place at the kitchen table by now, and his notebook with the pen still sitting beside it. His fingers plucked the writing utensil and set it back to work, trying his best to contain his more lustful thoughts. He knew it was improper. Men like him didn't get the girl. They never did.

His pen continued scratching the paper, almost on autopilot while his mind wandered the vast mindscape it contained. He thought of anything and everything he could remember, as he often did. And, as per usual, he found himself growing more and more miserable until he couldn't take it anymore and threw the pen across the room.

Laughter bubbled just below the surface, rattling his bones and raising his hairs on end until it exploded in a racket of deranged noise. He once again cocooned himself with his limbs until the fit subsided enough for him to breathe properly. His mother was calling for him but he ignored it. Arthur couldn't deal with her ramblings about Thomas Wayne at that moment.

He wanted someone to care. His mother, his father, anyone. Anyone at all.

Arthur thought of Sarah again. She wanted someone to care for her too. He could tell. After all that pain someone had given her, what else could she want?

She would get that soon enough he guessed. Her baby would love her, she would love it, they would have plenty of love together.

He wanted a taste of that love. His mother had always been wrapped up in herself, not the kind of woman that gave him the unconditional love he deserved. Arthur sighed, lit another cigarette and took a deep drag. Smoking distracted himself enough from those feelings. The warmth in his lungs from the tainted air was a fine substitute for the warmth in his chest that love might create.

Another drag from the cigarette. Maybe he could be her friend. He didn't know if it would work. It rarely ever went so well for him. Then again, Sarah might be the chance he's been waiting for all this time.

More smoke filled Arthur's lungs and mouth. A quick glance at the clock ripped him from his thoughts at the alarming discovery that he was missing the Murray Franklin show! He fumbled for the remote and flipped through the channels to get to it. With a sigh of relief, he found the channel and moved to sit on the couch for a better view.

God, he loved Murray Franklin. The smooth jazz he played on the show, the guests he spoke to, the jokes he made, Arthur devoured it every night he could. It was one of the few pleasures he had in life anymore and he prayed to whatever God existed that it would never end. The magic, it couldn't end. At least, he hoped it couldn't.

**BM**

Sunlight filtered through the windows of Gotham's buildings, bringing a new dawn to the city. Some were waking up with hope and excitement, others were preparing themselves for the usual daily drudgery that awaited them. Sarah and Arthur were both citizens of the latter group. As they brushed their teeth with discount toothpaste and dressed in donated clothes, a cloud of misery began to hover atop their skulls. Arthur was able to feed himself a little bit before making his way to his front door, while Sarah struggled to find her quick oats for breakfast.

Eventually, Sarah gave up and exited her apartment as ready as she could be for work. Her steps were sluggish as she waddled her way to the elevator, smiling at a young African American woman and her daughter along the way. She pressed the button and waited. It took forever which was no surprise but most certainly was an annoyance for the young woman. Of course, her neighbor did not see it as such.

"Good morning Sarah," Arthur murmured as he walked over to stand beside her. The brunette jumped and clasped a hand to her chest. Her breathing quickened exponentially for a few moments before calming at the sight of the speaker.

"Sorry Arthur." He smiled good-naturedly at her while straightening his jacket out. "Are you heading off to work?" Arthur nodded at Sarah's question, which garnered one of her minute smiles. He wasn't actually sure he could call it a smile. There was no joy, not even false joy, behind it.

"Are you?" Sarah nodded in response to Arthur, preferring to gesticulate rather than speak. "Where do you work?"

"A hospital. I'm a nurse." She once again started fiddling with her fingers, cracking the knuckles absentmindedly. Her neighbor winced slightly at a particularly loud one. "I'm sorry, it's a nervous habit."

"No need to apologize. Especially after you helped me out last night." Sarah moved to respond but was distracted by the arrival of the elevator. They climbed in, Arthur pushed the button for the lobby, and they descended down in the hole, the pit that was the city of Gotham.

A bell signaled their arrival in the lobby. Arthur moved out of the way so Sarah could exit first, and noted that her hair was braided today. Probably so it didn't get in her face when she dealt with patients. She was practical yet kind. Such a rare combination, it fascinated Arthur.

"Do you take the bus?" He asked, continuing to walk side by side with her. She nodded while fishing a piece of gum out of her purse. Arthur smiled as she offered him one. "No thank you. Mind if I sit next to you on the bus?"

Sarah looked up at him and shook her head. "That's perfectly okay with me Arthur. I don't mind having company." Her neighbor beamed at her before rushing forward to open the lobby door for her. She sent him a grateful look and reached out to hold onto the handrailing while exiting the building. Arthur hopped down the stairs, seemingly happy as can be, and waited for her to join him before continuing to walk towards the bus.

"Which hospital do you work at?" Arthur's question was drowned out by the roar of oncoming traffic.

"What?" Sarah shouted, cupping her ears with her hands.

"Which hospital did you work at?" He repeated. Sarah's eyes filled with comprehension.

"Gotham General!" Arthur nodded in recognition. He had visited them a few times for gigs and also for the occasional doctor's visit. Seems like he had a new reason to stop by.

And with that in mind, the two neighbors boarded the bus together.

**Hello everyone. If you read my other story, please take note of the hiatus I have placed on it. I didn't know what I wanted to do with the story anymore and I'm still trying to figure that out so please be patient. In the meantime, I will be trying to write this story. I fell in love with the Joker when I saw it a little while ago and want to share my own additions to the story. Hopefully, it goes well, and if it doesn't then I'll make it better. Please enjoy this, I think the movie was amazing and I can't wait to contribute one of my own works to the fandom. Until next time readers,**

**-Angel**


	2. Chapter 2

Arthur sighed as he removed his greasepaint from his tired skin, absolutely exhausted after another day working for Ha Ha's. He wondered what Sarah was up to. Her bus stop had been several stops before his, he hadn't seen her in the six hours that had passed. Maybe he would catch her on the way home. It wasn't entirely unlikely. Randall and Gary were removing their greasepaint as well, and chatting to each other all the while. No one ever chatted with Arthur.

A laugh burst from his lips. He clapped his hand over his mouth and held his breath as tears escaped his eyes, bringing trails of leftover black paint dripping down his skin in rivulets. Randall scoffed in annoyance and moved closer to Arthur's hunched form.

"C'mon man, stop it." The hiss in Arthur's ear went unheard as laughter continued to escape him. He hated Randall. Every day it was the same, with more attempts to make him hide his condition despite the fact he couldn't do a damn thing about it. If he was an amputee Randall wouldn't make him hide his mangled limb. No, he would. He was just that much of a complete and utter asshole.

His laugh began to subside. Arthur slowly straightened and grabbed his stuff from his locker. Gary sent him a sympathetic smile when he turned to make his way out of the room. He couldn't return it despite his best efforts. The other clowns watched him warily as he made his way down the stairs and back out into the street. Arthur took a cigarette from his pocket and lit it while making the trek down to the subway instead of the bus stop. He would find Sarah back at the apartment anyway.

**BM**

Sarah gave her best efforts to smile at the elderly couple in the waiting room as she called them into a room for their annual physical. They followed her to the room, congratulating her on her baby and saying all kinds of sweet things. She pulled them into exam room number 8 and started their work-up, trying to be as efficient as possible. The sooner she could get them in and out, the more patients she could see and possibly help.

"Thank you so much for coming in Mr. and Mrs. Oldren, the doctor will be with you in a moment." Her patients beamed at her while she made her way out of the room to call more patients. Sarah winced as a young teenager entered the room, visibly pregnant and upset. She was followed by her mother, who looked absolutely terrified. Before either of them could even sign in for an appointment, the nasty comments flooded from the others in the waiting room.

"She been fuckin too many boys for money," A woman nodded at her husband's comment, "I tell ya, kids these days." Sarah glared at them, but said nothing. Instead she approached the expectant mother with the necessary forms and guided them over to a seat. They said nothing in response. She called up her next patient, a young black man with a horrible cough. They walked into an exam room.

"Alright Mr. Wilkes, I need to listen to your breathing. May you please pull your shirt up for me?" Sarah's request was met with a hesitant nod as the boy carefully pulled his shirt off. He shivered at the feeling of the cold stethoscope on his back and tensed when Sarah hummed thoughtfully.

"You have some shortness of breath, I'll let the doctor know." Mr. Wilkes pulled his shirt back on and nodded. He extended his arm for his blood pressure test and allowed Sarah to check over some other things before leaving him to wait for the doctor. A quick glance at the clock caused Sarah to sigh in relief. Five pm, she could go home now.

The bus stop was cold and damp from the rain, but Sarah didn't mind in the slightest. Experiencing rain was her favorite thing about Gotham. Back home she rarely saw any rain, and instead only felt blistering heat and the burning grip of the sunbeams. The chill was welcome as more droplets fell from an overhang down the back of her shirt, making her shiver slightly. She was soon distracted by the arrival of her bus, however, and clambered on as gracefully as an overweight koala while attempting to find a spot. A man stood and offered her his seat with a kind smile on his face. She took it.

**BM**

An hour later Sarah found herself arriving at the bus stop a few blocks away from her apartment complex. She rose and departed from the bus, her back aching horribly as she crossed the city streets. Cigarette smoke and fumes filled her nose, the smell making her think of her old Pops smoking cigars. She missed him.

The smell grew and Sarah looked up to see Arthur standing under the overhang outside their building with a lit cigarette between his lips. Her heart fluttered slightly at the sight. He noticed her walking towards him and flashed her a smile around the cigarette before pulling it out to hold it limply in his hand.

"How was work?" Sarah sighed in reply, her hand flying back to push against her sore back. Arthur frowned in concern. Was she injured? He wouldn't put it past the city of Gotham's inhabitants to attack a woman despite her delicate condition. "Are you alright?"

"Oh, yes I'm fine," Sarah took a few steps up the stairs, "This little one just keeps rolling around and dancing his heart away." She gave one of her small smiles and gestured to her stomach while she spoke. "Work was fine too, it was mostly people coming in for a yearly physical."

"That's good."

"Mhmm." The two of them approached the row of mailboxes, fishing their keys out of their purses and pockets. Arthur noted with a pang of irritation that there was no letter for his mother today, just as there usually wasn't. Sarah, however, fished out several pieces of mail and began flipping through them idly.

"You're pretty popular," Arthur commented, smiling shyly at his neighbor. She shook her head in response and took a few of the envelopes out to throw them in a nearby trash bin.

"Only with the people that want me to give them my money. God, I hate them," Sarah shut her mailbox at the end of her pronouncement with a loud clank. Her eyes held a small fire of fury as she made her way over to the elevator and pushed the button. Arthur approached her.

"I hate them too," He murmured, only to be choked off by a loud cackle. His body curled in slightly, his own anger turning to bubbling, broiling glee that wracked his throat with pain. Arthur relaxed slightly when Sarah's hand moved up to rub his back once again without uttering a single word. When the elevator arrived, she merely guided him inside it and pressed the button for their floor. Her hand never ceased its motions.

His fit calmed just as they arrived at their floor. Sarah patted his back.

"Why?" She looked over at him, and then down at the floor. Arthur turned to her and moved closer, so close it became obvious how much he towered over her petite form. She didn't meet his gaze. "Why do you try to help me?"

Once again he was met with no reply as she ducked out of the elevator and into her apartment as quick as a mouse that spotted a cat. Arthur scowled darkly at the door to her home before storming into his own.

He didn't know how he felt about Sarah in that moment. Did he hate her? Probably not, considering he barely knew the woman. That didn't stop him from being filled with an emotion so charred and blackened that it made him want to be physically sick on the floor of his apartment. Why did she make him feel this way?

Arthur grabbed his journal and pen, shaking from raw emotion, and began his messy scrawling on another page. _Sarah keeps comforting me. I don't know why and she won't tell me. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. _His pen repeated that mantra until an entire page was filled with just that sentence.

"Happy?" He looked up at the sound of his mother's voice. Happy. Her nickname for him and his damnable condition. Arthur both resented and adored it with every fiber of his being. He loved making other people smile, to make them laugh. He hated making himself laugh. It was a cold and unpleasant sound, like nails on a chalkboard, and all it did was push him away from everyone and into a dark corner of society. A corral for the outcasts that no one could ever love.

"Happy, was there any mail?" Penny Fleck had managed to stumble her way into the sitting room. Her son stared blankly at his journal, filled with far too many emotions. She sighed and shuffled over to put a hand on his shoulder. Arthur snapped out of it and reached up to hold his mother's hand tightly.

"No Mom, no mail today." He winced at the whimper that escaped his mother's thin lips. There was a sizable part of his heart dedicated to pitying her and her obsession with Thomas Wayne. It died a little everyday though. That was to be expected when she didn't give a care for how her own son was doing. Arthur shuddered as the pity started shattering into shards of icy rage that made him tremble under her hand.

"I'm going back to bed," Penny whispered miserably. Her feeble body managed to make it back to the bed with minimal discomfort. Her mind was a different matter. Every passing day fed her fantasies about her former employer. The man she loved most in the whole world. Even more than her Happy. She'd never admit that though.

**BM**

Sarah opened her mail at the kitchen table every night and crunched her numbers so she could attempt to figure out how her money would go down the drain this month. Thankfully she had paid for three months rent right off the bat, so that wasn't a big concern. She crossed it off her list. Next was groceries.

"What do you want to eat dearest?" Her little one replied with a gentle nudge to her tummy.

"Well that's unhelpful." Sarah tried to make an inexpensive grocery list, noting with painful sorrow that this was what she was bringing a baby into. She shook her head and reminded herself that this was better than back home. While not perfect, this dingy Gotham was a hell of a lot safer for her and her baby than her previous place.

Finally, she had a list constructed. Sarah nodded to herself before standing and going into her kitchen to make something for dinner. This time she was able to find her oats and a can of condensed milk. With those bubbling away in a pot on the stove, she started changing into more comfortable clothes.

Sarah returned to the stove wearing a plain shirt and no pants. She took the last bit of chicken and threw it in a bowl before topping it with the oats. Arthur popped into her mind. What was he eating for dinner? Was he even eating? She could tell he was super skinny under all of his layers, it was the gift of a nurse. Another thought came to her. Why did she care? Arthur was nothing more than her neighbor.

She felt another nudge to her stomach. Clearly her little one had some thoughts about Arthur. Sarah sighed and looked at the left over oats in the pot. There was enough for another helping, and she had some sugar to make it sweeter. Part of her wanted to give it to him. He probably wouldn't appreciate it though. He seemed rather angry at her for comforting him.

No, he wasn't angry. He was confused. Sarah sighed and dug into her oats before they got cold. He was confused by her kindness because there was not another soul on this earth who had ever given him that comfort or love. Well, not exactly love. Tenderness? That was a better word for it. She washed her bowl out on autopilot and looked back at the stove. Sarah shook her head and moved the leftovers into a container. She'd eat them in the morning.

**BM**

Arthur lit a cigarette and turned the TV on, immediately flicking over to his favorite show. His journal still sat in front of him with poisonous words written in cancerous black ink that screamed his emotions out into the void. He flicked some ashes onto it and smudged them across his repetition of hatred towards his neighbor. She was lovely. He didn't hate her. At least, he thought he didn't.

It occurred to Arthur that he truly didn't know how he felt about Sarah, other than the fact he was terribly intrigued by her. He knew little to nothing about her. This seemed horribly wrong to him, to not know anything about someone who called out to him with every passing moment. He wondered what her voice sounded like when she sang, what her lips looked like when they curved into a real smile, what her favorite food was, what she loved to do in her free time, and a million other details that most would write off as insignificant. Not to him. Every facet of her being was significant to him, and he didn't know why.

That was what bothered him most. He didn't understand her, or why he felt this way about her. The comforting, intrigue, all of it felt so strangely bizarre and alien to him and his normally very closed off and distant disposition. Arthur looked back down at his journal and picked his pen up while taking a drag from his cigarette.

_I want to know her. I want someone. _Another drag. _She makes me feel something new. _A cough. _I like it. _Arthur coughed several more times. Ashes tumbled from the cigarette and onto the page, sticking to the wet ink. He tried to wipe them away, only to smudge the ink slightly. His eyes narrowed at the page, at the offending swipe of black.

He took a deep breath and closed the journal. His body turned to stretch out on the couch lazily, like a cat. Within an hour his eyes were bleary and heavy as sleep threatened to overcome him. Arthur didn't want to sleep though. Sleep meant bad dreams, the nightmares of his time in the hospital, the nightmares of his day to day fears, all of which played to the chilling soundtrack of his laughter.

Arthur wanted Sarah. She could chase them away, just like his episodes. He trembled under the blanket on the couch as the chilly air of Gotham permeated the sitting room, and his desire for his neighbor's presence continued to hover over him. His own personal thundercloud. A whirlwind of emotions.

**BM**

Sarah was also laying on her couch, and she too was avoiding sleep. All she saw and felt when she slept was pain, and she had run so very far away from it in hopes she would be spared. Instead her mind was content to torture her as soon as her eyes closed, each and every night. She thought about going to a mental facility, trying to get help. Every time she tried though, she would remember her baby. There was no facility in Gotham that would ever consider letting her keep an infant while she was committed, and there was not even a snowball's chance in hell she would give her baby up willingly.

It seemed that sleep was her only option. She needed it to treat her patients and to appropriately care for herself and her little one. Until someone constructed a way for her to sleep without dreams, it seemed she was stuck in this purgatory.

She wanted someone to rescue her. That was all she wanted. However, that was too much to ask for in this world. Whether she was in Gotham, or back home, or wherever else she might run off to next, there would always be someone around to beat down the less fortunate. Here it was her mind, before it had been the one person she had trusted to never hurt her, and in the future it could be anything. That was terrifying to Sarah.

The unknown terrified her beyond belief. She couldn't plan for herself or for anyone else if she didn't know what was coming. This fear, like a ball and chain, shackled her to the depths of self hatred and misery. It showed in the jagged lines long since faded on her arms and legs, it showed in her slumped posture, in her lack of smiles, and in her eyes that had been dulled by the years.

If only Sarah knew that there was someone who lived so close to her that suffered oh so similarly. Who wanted nothing more or less than someone to just care enough about them to try to make them feel better. In that darkness, in that loneliness, the two of them lay on their couches. They shivered like the rats in the rain and hid from the world just as those rodents did. No one else could ever want vermin like them. Not a single person that lived normally would see either of them and think that they were at all desirable.

Sarah and Arthur were creatures of the dark, the unwanted ones swept under Gotham's rug of the rich and elite. They would never belong anywhere else. Too many scars riddled them.

That didn't stop them from hoping they could change. It never would.


	3. Chapter 3

A full week had passed since Sarah and Arthur met and it had been filled with silence between the two neighbors. They still saw each other, that was unavoidable, but no words had been spoken since Arthur's outburst at the mother-to-be. He hated it. Sarah had thought it was fine for a few days, but she started feeling lonelier than before and it confused the living daylights out of the poor woman. She barely knew Arthur after all, why should she… miss him?

Very little made sense to her anymore, including her relationship with Arthur. However, she also was beginning to resent the distance between them. He was the only person in Gotham she could say she sort of knew. A little.

And so, with anxiety blooming in her chest, she exited her apartment and turned to stand in front of his. The door with chipping red paint beckoned to her, summoning her hand to collide with it in a gentle knock. She waited for a moment. Her hand came up and knocked again, slightly harder than before. Hopefully, he was home and she could make her amends.

The door swung open to reveal Arthur with his usual cigarette, clad in only a white t-shirt and jeans. She tried to smile but found herself unable to as per usual.

"Hi… Hi Sarah," He removed the cigarette from his mouth, "What are you doing here?" Sarah looked down at the floor, an embarrassed blush coloring her freckled cheeks. Anxiety started to bloom in Arthur's body too, stretching its tentacles through his many insecurities that came to life around her.

"I wanted to apologize, for being so rude when we last spoke." That had not been what Arthur thought she'd say. Push him away, call him a freak, hate him to the very core of his soul, he expected every one of those and a lot more, but not this. He could count on one hand the number of times someone had ever genuinely apologized to him in his life, including this one. Sarah's shuffling reminded him she was waiting for an answer.

"It's okay. We have bad days," He rasped out. A cough escaped him. Sarah sagged in visible relief, her eyes shined a little brighter, and Arthur loved it. His mother always told him he fell in love too easily. Maybe she was right. He didn't think so though. All he wanted was to be around her kindness. That didn't necessarily mean love.

"Can I make you some breakfast?" Sarah winced at the shock on Arthur's face, "As a new start for us." He relaxed slightly at her explanation and nodded hesitantly. She sent him one of her mini-smiles before turning and opening her own apartment door.

"C'mon, I just got some fresh groceries yesterday." Arthur followed her inside. His eyes widened and flicked over the entirety of her apartment, greedily soaking up every detail of every surface he could see. Sarah gestured for him to take a seat at her kitchen table, which was decorated by a vase with some flowers in it. Arthur reached out to feel the velvet petals between his calloused fingers. He giggled at the sensation. His host took out some eggs and started scrambling them in a bowl, adding vegetables every so often.

Once he had explored the petals plenty, he continued surveying the modest apartment. She didn't have many photos on her walls, and the ones she did were not of her. Several featured an elderly couple in a garden while a couple others contained a toddler with bright blonde hair and cognac eyes. Arthur frowned at the photos. Did Sarah already have a child? He thought he would have noticed that by now. Then again, it might not be hers.

"Here you are," Sarah set a plate down in front of him which contained an omelet and some potatoes. His eyes widened, that was fast. She grabbed her own plate and sat opposite him, trying not to let her growing stomach get in the way. Arthur picked up his fork and took a couple bites, not minding the idea of eating today. Sarah joined in once she was settled.

"Do you have to work today?" The nurse looked up and shook her head.

"Nope, today is my day off. We get one every week since some of my shifts can be over forty-eight hours long."

"That sounds horrible."

"It's getting harder, I'll give you that. Still, I could have it a lot worse."

"I suppose."

"What do you do for a living?" Arthur blushed in embarrassment. He didn't know how she'd feel about his job and for some reason that made his stomach twist in knots. It felt strange to care so much about what she thought.

"I'm a clown. Like, for parties and things." Sarah's eyes widened. That had not been what she had been expecting in the slightest.

"That's so cute!" Arthur searched her voice for any insincerity and blushed a deep red when he found none. "Have you met lots of kids?"

"Yes, they're my favorite part of the gigs." Sarah smiled, but this time just slightly wider than normal. Her neighbor smiled back.

"I love kids," One of her hands moved to rest on her stomach, "I don't get to see the happy side of them very often though." Her smile fell. Arthur's eyes dimmed at the sight.

"I could tell you love them, you have a lot of pictures," He pointed out, gesturing at the photo of the toddler. Sarah cut him off.

"Yeah, that's my nephew. He just turned ten right before I moved, but I don't have any new pictures printed yet." Her smile came back a little. Arthur cheered internally at the sight.

"So you have a sibling then?" Sarah nodded.

"I have a sister, she's five years younger than me," She explained, cracking her knuckles all the while. "What about you?"

"Oh, it's just me and my mom. My dad left us." Sarah frowned, her heart twisting slightly.

"My dad left us too," She whispered, staring at Arthur. His eyes widened, he leaned in slightly. He could barely comprehend how lucky he was to have met someone like Sarah. She knew his pain, at least in some respects.

"I'm sorry, I don't know why I'm telling you all of this," Sarah said, trying to give a sense of cheerfulness.

"It's okay, I don't… I don't…" Laughter started bubbling in Arthur's chest and soon garbled from his lips in choked cries. Sarah stumbled to her feet and moved around the table to rub his back gently. He turned and wrapped his arms around her, taking care not to jostle her swollen middle. Her eyes widened slightly at the gesture and she found herself frozen stiff. She didn't know what to do.

Except she did. She just didn't know how it might change their already bizarre dynamic. A moment of thought later and Sarah realized she didn't care if it made her uncomfortable because she wasn't the one hurting the most in that moment, not by a long shot. And so she wrapped her arms around him in return, and tucked his head into the crook of her neck.

"Shh…" Sarah's coos were drowned out by the cackles escaping from the man she was holding. She winced at the pained cry the laughter was morphing into and held him tighter. His grip tightened in response. "I've got you." Arthur tilted his head up to stare into her eyes.

"I'm sorry," Another laugh.

"Hey, I don't mind," She brushed a stray curl from his frail face, "And it's not your fault in the first place." He quieted down and soon his giggles were barely audible sniffs.

Sarah reached up to wipe his eyes. "There," His eyes were dried and a slight smile was on his face, "That's much better."

"Thank you." She smiled back at him minutely. He wished her lips would smile more. There was barely a line on her face whereas his had multiple from smiling, laughing or frowning at what happened around him. Arthur then realized that his arms were still wound around her tightly. He released her and looked back down at the breakfast she had made. Sarah laughed softly to herself and situated herself back in her own chair.

The room was mostly silent after that except for the sounds of them slowly eating their breakfast. Sarah's fingers flipped through the pages of a newspaper, the sound rustling through the air like a breeze through summer leaves. Arthur wanted her to run those spindly fingers through his wild curls. He wanted to feel her.

**BM**

Arthur had long since departed from her apartment when Sarah decided to go for a walk around Gotham. It wasn't raining that day, but the clouds hung low and dark in the midday sky as a shroud upon the city.

Her hair was neatly tucked into a beanie to keep it out of her face as she walked down the narrow and slick sidewalks in her neighborhood. Boots covered her petite feet to keep them safe from the multitude of puddles.

"What shall we do today?" Her baby nudged her stomach in response. "Wanna go on a train ride?" Another nudge. Sarah nodded and rounded the corner to enter the closest subway entrance. She stared at the map of routes before deciding to take the red line to the inner downtown of Gotham.

The buildings, the people, the insides of tunnels, all of them rushed past Sarah's window. Passengers entered and exited with every stop along the way in a senseless mob of flesh and loud voices. She disliked massive crowds, always had. Her sister, however, always flourished in them like the summer roses on a warm day in June. The idea of being in the huddled masses of a city and wading through the tumultuous currents their bodies formed brought a sparkle to her bright blue eyes, a sparkle that nothing else could ever elicit.

She missed her sister every day. Anytime Sarah passed a payphone she contemplated calling her, or her grandparents, really anyone from her family. The idea that they might let it slip of where she was always stopped her though. Sarah couldn't entertain the possibility of anyone back home knowing where she was because then it would be easier to find and hurt either her or her itsy bitsy baby. So she didn't. After all, if Ruth didn't know where she lived then neither would Jesse.

They could remain in Campbellsville without a clue, that was where she needed them to be.

**BM**

Arthur sat in the living room while he smoked his third cigarette of the day barely five hours after the sweet breakfast that Sarah had treated him with. Penny was still asleep in her bed, snoring louder than the radiator in the kitchen. It irritated him beyond belief. Quite frankly, there were days when Arthur was discomforted enough that pushing a pillow into her face seemed quite an attractive route. He never actually considered it though. His mother loved him just as much as he loved her, just... in her own way. He hoped.

His fingers stretched out and grasped his journal tightly. "Crap," He muttered before putting his smoke out. Arthur stood and grabbed his tan jacket, slipped it on over his button up shirt, retrieved the journal once again, and raced out of the apartment. Hopefully he could catch the train and make it to therapy on time.

"Oh god…" Arthur gasped for air and gripped the railing tightly, behind relieved he had managed to snag a train ride. There was no way he could have gotten a cab, not with the kind of money he had at the moment. He looked around, praying there would be an open seat somewhere.

_Pop. _His jaw dropped open at the sight of Sarah sitting at the back of the car, an empty seat right next to her. No. Not Sarah. Just another pregnant brunette with brown eyes. He shook his head. That meant Sarah was ordinary, and that was one of the largest lies his brain could have possibly come up with, barring anything he would think if he was high on the myriad of drugs that raced through the veins of Gotham.

Well, even though Sarah wasn't sitting there, he could still take that empty seat. The woman didn't spare him a glance as he lowered himself into her row. Good, he didn't want to talk to her.

He only wanted Sarah.

**BM**

His therapist was staring him down in the chair in front of her desk. He didn't like her. Well, he disliked her to some degree but it paled in comparison to the hatred his heart burned with towards her mind numbing incompetence in the field of psychiatry. Arthur winced as his body began to vibrate with chuckles and cackles that choked him into submission and shame.

"Is… is it just me or is it getting crazier out there?" He asked once his fit subsided. The woman across from him sighed and fiddled with her pen for a moment.

"It's certainly tense," Arthur took a drag from his cigarette, "People are upset, they're looking for work." She paused and looked back down at her hands.

"The garbage strike, it seems like it's been going on forever. It's tough." The pen scratched at a line on some paperwork in front of her. Arthur's eyes flashed at the sight. He knew that wasn't a note about him.

"How about the job? Still enjoying it?" He perked up at her question, his lips curling into a smile around his cigarette.

"Yeah, I mean, it's different each day, so I like that. I don't think I could ever sit behind a desk every single day," Another drag from the cigarette, "No offense." His therapist smiled and made an actual note, much to Arthur's simultaneous pleasure and annoyance, before glancing at the clock. She frowned and checked her own watch with a sigh.

"Have you been keeping up with your journal?" Arthur's body stiffened like his joke wand in a magic show.

"Everyday," He whispered haltingly.

"Great, did you bring it with you?" Silence.

"Did I bring what?" His therapist huffs under her breath.

"Arthur, last time I asked you to start bringing your journal to our appointments. Do you have it?"

The man in question nodded and pulled the frayed and bent journal out of his bag. He slowly passed it over to her, hesitation clear in his eyes. As she began flipping through it his body tensed impossibly more.

"I've been using it as a journal, but also a joke diary. Funny thoughts or observations," His lips tightened as she barely listened to his words while flipping through it, "Did I tell you I'm thinking of pursuing a career in standup comedy?"

"No, you didn't," She responded as her eyes landed on the page filled with his thoughts on Sarah.

"I think I did-"

"Who's this?" Arthur looked up. "Who's Sarah?" He smiled sweetly, shyly, adoringly, at the mention of her name. His therapist tilted her head to the side.

"She's my neighbor, we met last week and actually got breakfast together today." She nodded in response and continued flicking through the journal. Images of pornagraphy, miniature sketches, and his own thoughts or jokes screeched at her eyes and rattled around her mind like bats in a belfry. Arthur's eyes narrowed at her eyes as they flashed with alarm.

"You're thinking about comedy," She looked up at him, "Cause of your mom right? She said your purpose was to bring laughter and joy to the world." Arthur nodded with a lighter smile.

"Right." She continued to dive deeper into the journal, eventually landing on another page about Sarah. It described her physically from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. Arthur scowled and started picking at his eyebrow.

"How come you didn't mention her today?"

"It's all so new, I dunno," Arthur's stammers morphed into another laugh.

"Does my reading this make you uncomfortable?" Her patient winced.

"No, I just…" His laughter subsided, "Some of it's personal you know?" She nodded and passed the book back to him. He took it, more than thankful to feel it in his arms again.

"I understand. I just wanted to make sure you were keeping up with it." He didn't say a word, merely continued smoking his cigarette.

"How is your mother doing?" She asked, her fingers drumming her pen against a stack of paperwork.

"She has good days, but mostly bad ones. I like to think that me being there helps out." Arthur felt a ping of pride and hope in his chest. All he wanted was to be happy and make others happy.

"It seems like she's been getting sick a lot since you came back." Her patient nodded, his free hand coming up to rub his right temple. She made a note on the paper in front of her. A moment later she tried to continue the conversation, but he had shut down. There was nothing more she could do in that moment, at least in her opinion.

"Is there something else I can help you with today? My next appointment is waiting." Arthur slowly raised his head to stare at her before nodding.

"Yeah, I was wondering if you could get the doctor to increase the dosage on my medications? They haven't been making a big difference." His therapist frowned at him and made another note on her papers.

"Do you know which one you want increased?" He shook his head no. Arthur felt so helpless at that moment, trying to remember all of his medications and what in the hell they were for.

"Have you been sleeping?" She asked.

He shrugged.

"Arthur, you're on seven different medications. Surely one of them is helping at least a little bit." He shook his head no and stood from the chair to gather his things. Before he left the room, he turned back to stare at her.

"I just don't want to feel so bad anymore."

**Hey guys, I hope you enjoyed, feel free to leave me some feedback! I love when I get it.**


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